


What Runs in Ink

by CaveOfChaos



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence, Panic Attacks, Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), bruh i suck at tagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:40:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28561437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaveOfChaos/pseuds/CaveOfChaos
Summary: Ranboo knew he had to leave. He would most certainly die if he didn't(Picking up after the end of Ranboo's last stream on 1/3)
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 372





	What Runs in Ink

**Author's Note:**

> ayyyy i haven't posted a MCYT fic so here you go gamers

An annoyed knock shook Ranboo awake. He stood up, the floor below him was stoe, he was in his house. He was safe. He was okay. Why was he on the floor? Why was his memory book in his hand? Why did he feel panicked?

Shakily, he shoved open to the newest page, moving the hastily written ‘DO NOT READ’ on the cover to the side.

Etched in smudged ink was his handwriting. “You didn't put it there. How could it have moved?”

His breath quicked. He grabbed his head in his free hand. He couldn’t faint again.

Another inpatient knock burst his fearful silence. What if it was whoever had read the book? Who had read the book? Who knew he was a traitor? What would they do to him?

Would they kill him? Like he had heard Tubbo mutter about Schlatt doing to him? Like how they had nearly beheaded Technoblade?

“Ranboo? Are you going to help decorate the festival or not?” It was Fundy. Ranboo sighed, tucking his real memory book back into his enderchest. Fundy would have already lashed out at Ranboo if he had read it, right? Unless this was a trap. What if it was a trap?

Ranboo sucked in a breath. “Yeah, sorry.” He shoved open the door.

Fundy frowned, “Are you alright? You have ink on your face.”

Ranboo’s hand shot up to his face, sure enough, when he pulled it back to see what was on his fingers, ink traced his skin. Ranboo smiled, a quick smile, trying to come up with a reason why. When he collapsed, he must have knocked the ink over. “I- I knocked over ink? I was writing and it spilled and I went to clean it up but then you showed up so I didn’t get a chance then I-”

“It’s fine, we just need to finish up the food booth. I think Quackity had something to say to you after though, he seemed angry. You might want to clean up for that.”

“W-why? Did he say why?”

Fundy looked up at Ranboo hesitantly, “Said something about explaining a book?”

Ranboo stared at Fundy with wide eyes. He would die today, no doubt. This would be the end of his first life. “I should probably prepare for that. It sounds important.” He needed to get out of here. Anywhere but here. Tubbo would know he was a traitor. They all would know. It wouldn’t matter if he lived or died, he didn’t want to see that same hatred in his friends' eyes that rose when they looked to Technoblade and sometimes Eret.

“Oh, do I have to do it all by myself then?” Fundy laughed. Ranboo gave a nervous cackle.

“I guess, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to.” It was more of an apology for what would soon come out about him. 

“What do you mean? It’s not like you betrayed us or something.” Fundy gave a smile and a friendly pat on the back to Ranboo.

“I’ll see you at the festival then, Fundy.”

Fundy nodded, leaving Ranboo alone outside his door. His green and red eyes flashed across the town landscape, making sure no one would see him leaving. Maybe the book was just one of his minute books, maybe he wanted one. Or to explain him slacking off on one of them. No no, he couldn’t be stupid. He couldn’t risk it. He didn’t want this to happen. He just wanted peace, but all the cabinet wanted was power and war. 

Ranboo shut his door behind him with a thud. His eyes dashed around, looking for any supplies he would need. He first pulled the heavy netherite armor from one of his chests. He was lucky he hadn’t fainted with it on or he would have cracked a rib. 

After tying on the final chestplate, he peeked out his window, only to lock eyes with a familiar face. One that wasn't supposed to be here.

“Hey!” Tommy yelled through the window. “Let me in, my invis pot wore off.” Ranboo rubbed his face with his ink covered hand by mistake, only to get some in his eye. He hissed as he shut his eye. He opened the door, waving Tommy inside. Another set of particles followed. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked in hushed anger, shutting the door after an invisible figure he assumed to be Technoblade or Phil entered.

“I heard there was going to be a festival and I got curious. Why are you armouring up? Why are you nervous?”

“Because I am going to die soon if I don’t get out of here. Now, leave. I’m packing.”

“Why are you going to die soon?”

Ranboo stared at Tommy for a long moment. “This is why,” he wildly gestures at the invisible particles and Tommy, “I’ve betrayed everyone and now someone knows and I’m pretty sure it’s Quackity. Can you please go somewhere else? It’s hard enough leaving here by myself.”

“Well, Techno has a place to stay.” Tommy gestured at the collection of particles who seemed to sigh.

“He didn’t know I was here Tommy, and no, I don't have a place to stay. Drink another invis potion and let's get out of here. I’m not risking getting caught for a L’manburgian.”

Tommy sighed. “Can I atleast give him a potion, we have enough.”

Techno let out a sigh, the hazy particles gave a nod. Tommy smiled, hurling a glass bottle at Ranboo’s floors. The liquids crawl up his and Tommy’s skins. His fingertips quivered as the invisible coating laced up his neck and over his face. The armor he had just put on stayed unaffected by the potion, it’s surface being metal. 

Tommy must have looked at him. “Well… at least they won’t know who is in the floating armor.”

“Tommy, no one else here is close to my height. Besides maybe Ghostbur or Sam, but neither of them have reason to be sneaking out of L’Manburg in full armor.”

“Just… we need to leave, Tommy.” Technoblade muttered, Ranboo watched as his door was shoved open and the two sets of particles disappeared outside.

Technoblade wouldn’t have a house for much longer if Quackity had anything to do anything about it. Why did he write where Techno lived down? He should have taken Techno’s original advice and not write them down at all and just let himself forget. 

Forget. Hazy memories out of reach scratched at his consciousness as he shoved his tools into a bag and slung it over his back. He looked over at his enderchest. Should he take his book with him? Should he just forget it all and move on? Go out into the wilderness and forget the bridges he built?

He took a breath, thinking about Tommy and how he hadn’t pinned any of the blame on Ranboo. How Philza had taken the time to find him in his mines, to save him from the fiery death that would surely await him had he not been saved.

Ranboo sighed, pulling the book out. He wouldn’t forget this time. Not again. Maybe there was more again, he didn’t know.

Ranboo grabbed some food to keep him over until he would find a place to set up and stay.

Maybe he would exile himself and it all would pass. Or would the Butcher Army be sent to his door?

He looked back at his three cats and dog, he couldn’t keep them all. Tearing a piece of paper from his book, he scribbled a note. “Please take good care of them, they’ve done nothing wrong.” He held onto the straps at his shoulders. It was time to go. He bent down, hoping not to be caught as he slid out of his house. His gaze shifted across the walkway. No one was outside their houses yet. It was close to midday, something was off. 

He scurried out of his house, his invisible hands threw him off a bit, but the netherite boots made certain he wouldn’t trip over his steps. 

He was terrified, he felt like every sound was watching him. Ranboo began to jog a bit faster as footsteps sounded out behind him.

“Ranboo? Ranboo, is that you?” A voice. It was Quackity, he sounded angry. He must have been angry, he must have found his book. He must have read it. He must have known Ranboo was a traitor.

He kept quiet, not wanting to speak.

“Ranboo, why are you running?” Quackity was closer now, Ranboo started to walk faster now. “So it’s all true then? You betrayed us all. That whole ‘I’d never betray you’ was all bullshit then?”

Ranboo stopped walking for a second. “I didn’t mean to betray you.” The ink stung at his eyes as tears prepared to fall.

“What? You didn’t mean to give Technoblade all his armor back? Didn’t mean to not tell us where Phil went? Not tell us about how you knew Tommy was alive that you had talked to him?”

“.... What?” A soft voice came from further behind Quackity. Tubbo.

Ranboo turned to face the two cabinet members. “Please, just let me leave. I never told Technoblade any secrets. He was just there. I- I. I’m so sorry. I just… you were so aggressive to Techno. I don’t want to die.”

“Die?” Quackity laughed, a smile twisting his features, the long scar that traced up his face from where Techno had struck him with a picaxe, making him look completely mad. Maybe he was. “You’re our ticket to everyone left on our list. Dream and Technoblade.”

Ranboo’s eyes widened, they couldn’t see it because of the invisible potion coursing through his veins but he was sure Quackity knew it. 

“What?” Both him and Tubbo hissed. Quackity took a few steps forwards. Ranboo stumbled a step back. Even having armor on and towering over Quackity, Ranboo was terrified.

“Techno trusts you, for the most part. Dream wants Tommy. If you get Techno and Tommy here, we can ki- take care of Techno and Dream, then get Tommy back. That is, of course if Dream doesn’t get to him first but that part is negotiable.”

“You-? What?” Ranboo gasped. Quackity kept walking forwards. Tubbo seemed to be frozen in place. Ranboo took a step back. A tingling feeling crushed him as the invisible potion wore off.

Quackity reached to grab at Ranboo’s arm. “Some decisions are hard to make, but I do have to say, this is one of the easiest.”

Ranboo tried to pull his arm free, his fingertips looked for any weapon. He pulled free a picaxe, twisting it free from his back. With a grand swing with his left hand, as strong as he could, a new wound crossed Quacity’s now-bleeding face. The cabinet member’s hands shot to his face, stumbling back.

“Ranboo-!” Tubbo called out. Ranboo stared in dread at the horrendous act he had committed. Sure, Big Q was alive, but that scar would last forever. A new scar. And it was Ranboo’s fault.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Panic rushed to his face as he felt tears welling. “I’m so sorry…”

He turned. He ran. Arrows chased him along with shouts. How could he do this? Fundy must have noticed by now, everyone in L’Manburg must know by now. It must not help his case the crumpled form of Quackity. 

He sniffled, racing to the waters, jumping into the nearest boat. He needed to exile himself. He didn’t want to hurt anyone else.

Hours past in rapid succession, he was here. His arms felt like jelly but he was where he needed to be. Out where the only color to be seen was blue and the shouts of his former friends couldn’t reach, he began to write.

“I attacked him. I’m a monster. I’m a traitor. Why did I do that? How could I let this happen? Now everyone is at risk. Big Q knows where Techno, Phil and Tommy are probably. It’s all my fault. Y’know, I tell myself that I stick to these morals, to protect these people, to be passive but here I am. Everyone who has ever helped me feels betrayed or worse. It’s my fault. How could I let this happen? Why did I do that?”

Ranboo stared down at the pages, the ink ran from his tears and the salt water around him.

Should he do it?

Forget it all?

Forget Tommy, Tubbo, Fundy, Quackity, Techno, and Phil?

He shut his memory book, playing around with it in his hands. A small page crumpled in the last of the book was all that was left of whatever had befallen him before. His fingers curled around the yellowed, torn page.

“DON’T FORGET: CARE FOR THOSE WHO CARE. -Ranboo” 

Ranboo took a breath, shoving the page into his pocket. The leather in his palms felt so much heavier now. His eyes shifted across the moving waters then back to the book. Maybe he should.

The book let out a resounding splash as it sunk, black line swirled through the waters as the pages became watery heaps of nothing.

Ranboo rowed forwards to the nearest beach shore, setting up camp with the little supplies he had brought.

He would forget it all in the morning. Everything.

He would be free.


End file.
